


Ahab

by hepatica



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anal Sex, Blowjobs, M/M, venom is a tits man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 12:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5540555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hepatica/pseuds/hepatica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Venom wanted more, wanted to feel that Ocelot was real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ahab

When that man rode in on his white horse to save him, Venom wondered if he was still dreaming. It seemed farcical - a bandaged man, consumed by the fires of hell - but when that man spoke, he spoke from the earth. Venom took his hand.   
  
_You know who I am._  
  
Did he? He barely knew himself. As he lay waiting in that old whaler for Ocelot to return he wondered if this was some construct of his nascent mind, dreamt up to guide him somewhere.  
  
The jingle of spurs in his cabin hours later suggested flesh and blood.  
  
"Sorry," he said, shrugging his duster off. "Go back to sleep."  
  
He smelled lightly of cigar smoke. There was a high flush to his cheekbones, like a teenager caught on a date. Venom felt a sting of – something.  
  
The first night and day after Venom caught him ritually muttering to himself. After that, nothing. He retreated into himself, looking out at Venom from behind a veil of water.

\--

  
  
This so-called Ocelot spent the next few days filling him in on the world that had unfolded in his absence. He knew everything: about him, about politics, about birds that flew overhead to the build of the ship. If his voice hadn't been so welcoming Venom might have been terrified of this man, the vastness of his knowledge.   
  
"You waited all this time for me?" he asked, moved by this man's devotion like one admired a good deed on the news.  
  
"I've always waited for you," he replied vaguely, and that was that.

  
  
\--

  
  
The days were long and hot on that whaler. The crew were afraid of them both, speaking of twin demons – one with a horn, the other hiding behind sweet talk. Uncaring, Ocelot went off to god knows where for hours at a time, returning like an apparition to oversee Venom's rehabilitation or fill him in on (questionably) interesting news.  
  
Today Venom found him on the deck, glaring white under the sun. He was observing the quiet sea, his face and breast tinged with sunburn. Venom followed that redness down Ocelot's spread collar, wanting to catch more. Ocelot wasn't bad looking. Maybe not to Venom's taste, but there were no women on board, and the sway of his hips as he turned to face Venom was decidedly feminine.  
  
"Have you ever seen this many fish before?" Ocelot asked, peering over the railing. Venom let his eyes roam over Ocelot's body before following his gaze into the water. There were plenty of fish, sure, their silver backs gleaming as they broke the surface of the water, but Venom was more interested in the man beside him. Sweat had gathered on his upper lip, was trickling down his throat. Heat made his skin look tender, made Venom's hand flex, wanting to touch -  
  
"That's a lot of fish," he grunted out before he did something untoward. The last thing he needed was to alienate his only ally.  
  
"You ever wonder about what's down there?” Ocelot motioned downwards. “A whole other world we've hardly even seen.”  
  
"Not really. That sort of thing gives me bad dreams. And after this I think I've seen enough water to last a lifetime."  
  
Ocelot eyed him for a moment, squinting through the glare. "Go get some rest if it's too much for you. You won't get much of a chance to once we hit land - and don't worry, there's plenty of that where we're going." He smiled now, looking strained and older than he was. "Unless you can't get enough of my company? Thought I might've talked you to death by now."  
  
"It's fine. The talking, that is. Not like there's anyone else around."  
  
"I'm flattered. Well, I'll see you at dinner. I'm not letting you get away without eating again, food's important."  
  
In their cabin later Venom palmed his cock through his trousers. He fumbled with his zipper, pulled his dick out, imagined what it might look like sliding into Ocelot's mouth – what it might be like to hook his finger on the V of that shirt and tear – rub his dick in that space, cum on that throat, that stomach –  
  
He found completion and spilled into his fist. Once the high abated, shame crept in. He could beat off to his ally, but not remember his name?  
  
He avoided Ocelot's eyes at dinner.  
  
"Tell me about Miller," he asked, looking for distractions.  
  
Ocelot pushed his fish around. "Hmm. I'm not too familiar with him, but you were. Blond, wears sunglasses. Constantly - not that I can talk. Sleeps around a lot. Or he used to. Not my crowd but you like him enough."  
  
A beach in Costa Rica. Memories clicked into place.  
  
"Yeah...yeah, I remember. _Kaz,_ ” he said fondly.  
  
Ocelot was tense. "Thought you might. That's good, Boss. These last nine years have been hard on him – he'll be real glad to see your face again, I'm sure."  
  
"That so?"

“That's so.”  
  
The clink of cutlery was loud.  
  
"Sorry," Venom blurted out.  
  
Ocelot looked up. "What for?"  
  
"Forgetting you."  
  
Ocelot was just out of reach again. "Not your fault. What's important is that it's coming back to you. You'll remember the rest eventually. Or maybe you won't. The mind's a mystery. Eat up."  
  
He excused himself, leaving Venom to polish his bowl off too.

  
  
\--

  
  
Ocelot seemed like the sort of mysterious thing that belonged beneath the sea, known of but unseen. If Venom had ever known how to navigate the depths to reach him, he had long since lost the art in his sleep.   
  
He barely talked of himself, their relationship. He was told they were friends, of a sort, not like he and Miller but the kind that never fell out no matter how far apart they drifted. There was no importance in him or his work, only that it served Venom's best interests. It seemed he existed almost entirely to please Venom.

He had confessed he was a spy early on, moved to reassure Venom that he was _his_ spy, that this had been accepted by Big Boss and their mutual trust was absolute. But Venom couldn't help but wonder if Ocelot had molded himself into this shape with sole intent of winning him over; that nothing was real about him, about this ship. Feelings of doubt resurfaced, and he found himself anxious to reach land, to get the ground beneath his feet again.

 

\--

 

  
It was hard not to stare as Ocelot lay in the cot beside him, shirt half opened to air out sweating skin.

"It's hot," he said, pushing back grey hair. They had been trapped in their cabin for hours and the air was stale.   
  
“What's your name?” Venom said suddenly. “Your _real_ name.”

Ocelot ignored him as if he had never asked. “It's hot,” he repeated strangely.

Venom dropped it.  
  
Ocelot shifted, trying to get comfortable. Venom watched as his shirt snagged and opened wide, the expanse of his chest erotic as anything he'd beat off to as a teen.  
  
He was on Ocelot in a second, tearing that shirt the rest of the way open, teeth grazing a nipple, licking and sucking at sweat like he was starved.  
  
" _Boss –_ "  
  
Venom pulled back, holding Ocelot tight.  
  
"Is this all right?" he panted.

Ocelot smiled and put his mouth on Venom's dick in reply. He was good – expertly good. Venom's red hand scraped at Ocelot's bare shoulders, moved around to cup the back of his bobbing head. Sweat dripped from Ocelot's brows and hung from his nose as he huffed around Venom's dick. Venom bit his lip. He wanted more, wanted to feel that Ocelot was real.  
  
He carefully untangled hair from the joints in his hand and nudged Ocelot on to his hands and knees. He groaned at the sight of Ocelot's pale back, the parted thighs, the uneven flush of sunburn on his skin – everything seeming as if it had been built just to exist in that moment for Venom to get his hands on. He slapped the meat of Ocelot's ass, relishing the man's sharp hiss. Venom couldn't recall fucking a man before, but he was a quick study, and Ocelot felt enough like a woman in his arms  
  
Using the gel for treating his arm, he greased his fingers and slipped one in, then two, stretching Ocelot roughly at his insistence. Ocelot breathed hard at the intrusion but rocked back all the same, asking for more.  
  
Venom obliged.  
  
Taking hold of Ocelot's hips, Venom slid home, almost cumming from the sheer sensation of solid warmth around his cock. And Ocelot felt so good, panting and writhing, desperate for it. Ocelot knew how to please men, in and out of bed, and Venom felt so damned _pleased_ with himself that this exceptional man had chosen _him_ that the nine years melted away inside that pliant body.  _You're here – for me –_ _  
_  
"Fuck, _Ocelot._ Tell me – your name – “  
  
Ocelot looked back over his shoulder, eyes wet. When he said nothing Venom was possessed by a need to fuck him into the ground – he pushed him flat on his stomach and rutted into him, pinning him down with his weight. He knew Ocelot wanted this, could hear and feel it in his muffled groans, his jerking hips. Before Venom thought to touch him he was shaking, clenching around Venom's cock.  
  
Soon enough Venom was cumming, Ocelot shivering beneath him as he was filled. He pulled out and rubbed that hole with a blunt finger, coaxing his seed out. If he couldn't remember Ocelot, then Ocelot would remember this at least.  
  
"We can't do this at Mother Base," Ocelot said after as they lay together, his skin still too hot. "You have - a reputation."  
  
Venom lit a cigarette and watched Ocelot doze beside him, large nose pressed into his arm. He wasn't quite sure what that reputation was, but he trusted Ocelot to uphold it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Merry christmas??


End file.
